


Public transport sucks ass but you've got a good one

by ApatheticLexicographer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Awkwardness, Dave: internal screaming, Dorks, Let Karkat sleep 2k20, M/M, Meet-Cute, Short & Sweet, Strangers, based on a prompt I saw on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApatheticLexicographer/pseuds/ApatheticLexicographer
Summary: “idk you but you fell asleep on my shoulder on the bus and the only reason i’m letting you stay there is bc you look very comfy and i’m a good person - it’s totally not bc you’re also possibly the cutest and most precious human being i have ever seen hahah okay maybe a lil” au
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119





	Public transport sucks ass but you've got a good one

Another day, another tedious bus commute. If the club you DJ at wasn’t the highest paying one in the area you’d probably quit and look for somewhere a little closer to home. You don’t have anything against public transport in theory, it’s convenient and efficient, you just happen to loathe actually using it with every bone in your body. It doesn’t help that the time you have to leave for work coincides pretty neatly with the time most people are coming back from theirs, so the outgoing bus is always packed. The only small mercy is that your bus back home in the wee hours is basically deserted.

There are a few people who frequent your particular route that you just can’t stand. There’s the girl who’s never heard of headphones or decent music, the guy who thinks dirty talking to his girlfriend over the phone is a good idea, and of course the man who brings a literal jar of peanut butter and a whole apple to eat every. Single. Day. You love apples, you really do! And peanut butter might not be your favorite topping, but it’s definitely up there! But really? On the bus? He could at least keep his mouth closed, the pig.

Point being, your commute to work is just about your least favorite time of the day.

Today you happen to be sitting near the rear of the bus. You’re leaning back in your seat with your eyes closed behind your shades and the music in your earbuds as loud as you can tolerate it. You feel something bump against your shoulder. And there goes your personal space, it was nice while it lasted.

You crack an eye open to see who your new seatmate is. You hope it’s not the chick who has a perpetual cold and coughs everywhere. You’re honestly surprised she hasn’t given you the plague yet.

…

Well, the good news is he’s not Plague Girl. The other good news is he’s pretty much exactly your type. Short, thick eyebrows, cute messy hair and are those snakebites? Nice. It’s at times like these when you’re glad you’re wearing mirror shades because you really don’t want him to know that you’re checking him out.

He perches himself rather daintily on the seat, like he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible without seeming too rude. You would know, you used to do it a lot yourself before you gave up on being polite. As far as you’re concerned everybody else on the bus is automatically a dickhead, except maybe this guy. He pulls a book out of the backpack he’s got wedged tightly between his knees. It’s one of those appalling middle aged women’s smut books that charity shops practically try to give away, the ones with two generically attractive straight white people in vaguely compromising positions on the cover. You honestly respect the balls it must take to read that shit in public. Most men wouldn’t touch that drivel with a ten foot pole in the privacy of their own rooms for fear of being emasculated, you included.

He settles into reading his my-marriage-is-failing porno and you close your eyes again, not wanting to toe the line between nosy and creepy. You let the music wash over you and try to relax. You always listen to calming stuff on the bus, you’ll spend the next few hours making your eardrums bleed with loud shit after all. You need whatever breaks you can catch.

You’re finally approaching something like calm, allowing yourself to focus only on the rhythm of your music and the swaying of the bus, when you feel an unexpected weight fall against your shoulder. You blink your eyes open in alarm, stranger danger senses activated. Just before you can shove the foreign entity away and out of the stratosphere you notice what exactly it is that has fallen onto your shoulder.

It’s the cute guy’s head. His eyes are peacefully closed and his face is relaxed, bordering on serene. That messy hair really does frame his features so perfectly. Your eyes track down his body and you notice that he’s still clasping his erotic novella in one hand, the other having fallen from his lap and landed dangerously close to your thigh.

Well, shit. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Wake him up? Then he’ll no doubt be mortified, which’ll make you embarrassed, which will probably make him think that he’s done something wrong and the cycle of crippling awkwardness would continue until either of you left the bus. Should you let him sleep? But then he might miss his stop and he could get totally the wrong idea about why you didn’t object to him being all up in your business.

The guy lets out a little sigh, snuggling closer. The hand not protecting his third-rate copy of Horny Housewives comes up seemingly instinctively to curl in your jacket. Oh dear christ lord. It’s not every day you get an extremely attractive man draping himself all over you and you’re woefully unequipped to deal with it. Said extremely attractive man nuzzles into your neck and your heart almost stops.

Okay, this is fine. This is totally cool and you’re definitely not blushing down to your shoulders because of how adorable this COMPLETE STRANGER is. You’re only two stops away from the club, you can wake him just before you need to get off and hope that he’s not too far from where he needs to be. For now you’ll just have to sit here and try your hardest not to look like you’re freaking out while this bona fide hottie drools on the sleeve of your hoodie. Cool as a cucumber, that is you.

The automated voice calls out the name of the next stop. One more to go and you’re getting off. Shit, that sounded kinda Freudian didn’t it? You elect to tastefully ignore it since nobody (Rose) is around to tease you. It’s not your fault that every other word out of your mouth is an innuendo, it’s just one of your many talents.

The bus goes around a corner and you sway slightly. The guy leaning on you is shifted by the movement, but rather than waking him up his head slides off of your shoulder and falls heavily into your lap, pillowed by your bony thighs. Defying all odds he continues to sleep, seemingly quite happy with this new position.

Your eyes dart around the bus to see if anyone is watching but all the other commuters are engrossed in their own little bubbles. Just like you would be too if it wasn’t for sleeping beauty over here. He looks pretty out of it despite how uncomfortable his position must be. Either the dude has a bad case of narcolepsy or he hasn’t slept in, like, a week.

The bus comes to a stop again. Shit, you should probably wake this guy up soon. You reach out tentatively and boop his shoulder. He doesn't stir. You take a firmer grip of his shoulder and shake him, not too hard. “Okay, naptime’s over buddy. I got a job to do.”

“Mmmph.” He rolls his shoulder slightly, trying to dislodge you.

“Dude, seriously. I hate to be the one to break it to ya but you’re kinda asleep in my lap right now. You could at least have bought me dinner first.”

“Wuuuh?” He finally lifts his head a fraction, twisting his neck around to see you better. “Who th’ fuck’re you?” His speech is slurred but you get the feeling he has quite a pretty voice. Just your luck.

“Dave Strider, pleased to meet you. Would you mind getting your head out of my lap? My stop is coming up.”

His eyes go wide as he jerks upright, just shy of hitting you in the chin. “Shit! I’m so goddamn sorry, holy fuck! I didn’t get any sleep last night, I must have dozed off. Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

Aw beans. Did you make the wrong call letting him sleep? “I mean you were pretty far gone broseph, I figured if you conked out on the bus then you probably needed your beauty sleep. Have you missed your stop?”

“Umm.” He bites his lip. “Wait, where are we now?”

“Just coming up to Wind and Shade, which is where I gotta make like a banana and split.”

He screws his face up at your wording but nods. “Okay, my stop is next. I’m so fucking sorry, if I were you I’d probably be livid.”

“Nah, s’ok. Just try not to make a habit of taking naps on randos, not everybody is such a sweetheart.” You gin so he knows you’re being sarcastic.

He smiles wearily and it’s like seeing an angel. This man is too pretty for his own good. “Thanks, man.”

The bus starts losing momentum and you stand up, making your way over to the doors. That could have gone a lot worse, you think.

You’re halfway through your shift at work when you realize you never got his name.

**Author's Note:**

> They then proceed to do this every day for a month in increasingly compromising positions before either of them gets up the guts to make a move. Also Peanut Butter Apple Man is a real person and I detest him with all 66 inches of my being


End file.
